


she means everything to me

by Anonymous



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/F, Fluff, Mild Hurt/Comfort, fem sakuatsu, kiyoomi tries kissing and atsumu supports her, wlw sakuatsu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:53:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29269812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: She’s afraid, scared to touch and to feel, to give herself away—but with Atsumu, with her brittle bleached hair and eyes that feel like home—Kiyoomi wants to try.(or: an exploration of boundaries between a lost girl and her lodestar.)
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 42
Collections: Anonymous





	she means everything to me

**Author's Note:**

> uhhh couldnt think of many Proper tags to put on this but  
> kiyoomi isn’t touch-averse in this, instead i made her touch-scared (?) she’s worked her way up to cuddles and snuggles, but the main thing i wanted to explore in this fic was kissing because ahahaha *hides behind projector* No Reason Actually
> 
> **cw**  
>  there are some brief descriptions of panic-ish feelings and hints of a fear of being taken advantage of

It happens when they’re at Kiyoomi’s house. The day has softened to night, orange fading to bluish purple, and they’re in her living room, television playing some movie or another. It’s dim, the only light coming from the screen despite Kiyoomi’s protests; it’s bad for your eyes, she’d said, but Atsumu had pouted and said it doesn’t feel the same, you need the darkness for the peak cinema vibes. It was a silly reason, but Kiyoomi had ended up giving in. So they sit in the faint blue glow while the world outside is quiet and dark, Atsumu curled up on one end of the couch with Kiyoomi’s watermelon pillow on her lap, and Kiyoomi on the other end with her knees pulled up to her chest.

It’s their usual arrangement, but Kiyoomi finds herself wanting to be closer with Atsumu. She’s only become more comfortable with physical affection recently, and it’s a new and weird feeling, to want to hold and be held, but Kiyoomi admits she doesn’t… dislike it.

She sneaks a glance over at Atsumu, and she’s engrossed in the film, eyes glossy and lips pursed. Trust her to get emotional over a movie, Kiyoomi thinks, and when she glimpses at the screen, she’s reminded that they’re watching a decade old animated movie that isn’t even marketed as tear-jerking, yet here Atsumu is. The sight makes her heart squeeze with fondness and she grips her sleeves where they hang over her fingers.

“‘Tsumu,” she murmurs, and hides a smile when Atsumu jumps a little and hastily wipes at her face.

“O-Omi?” she questions, eyes wide as she looks over.

“Do you want to…” Kiyoomi starts. “Can we—is it okay if—do you want… to cuddle?” She tries to ignore the heat creeping up her face as she stutters her way through asking; she wishes she’d stolen her watermelon pillow back so she could bury her face in it instead of having to look at Atsumu. Unfortunately, the pillow is not in her lap, so she just pointedly avoids Atsumu’s gaze.

She lifts her head to a soft giggle and sees Atsumu, half of her face illuminated by weak light, the golden hues of her hair subdued, her eyes alight with something sweet, something honeyed, something that feels inexplicably _warm_ , and her chest aches so much it hurts.

“I humbly accept your offer for cuddles,” Atsumu says, her smile bright. 

She picks up the watermelon plushie and opens her arms wide and Kiyoomi lets her lips twitch as she crawls into her lap. She hesitates for a second and decides to wrap herself around Atsumu before settling. It takes some shuffling and manoeuvring, but eventually she gets there and lets herself relax. 

“Comfortable?” Atsumu says, smirking, but she can’t fool Kiyoomi; the softness in her eyes is so blaringly obvious she wonders how she ever missed it.

Kiyoomi hums contentedly into Atsumu’s neck. When she feels the gentle squish of the watermelon plushie against her back, Atsumu’s arms heavy and warm around her middle, she wants to sink into a puddle of goop and live here forever.

She doesn’t know how long they sit like that for, Atsumu’s hands playing with the ends of her curls. It feels like the movie is close to reaching its end but she doesn’t check, satisfied with where she’s melted into Atsumu.

“If I died before we could go explorin’ Paradise Falls together, would you go in my place?”

“... What?”

Atsumu’s hands in her hair stop, and Kiyoomi looks up.

“Have you not been watchin’ the movie at all?” Atsumu asks, poking the two moles on Kiyoomi’s forehead. Her tone is exasperated, but filled with endearment.

“Not really,” she says, shifting slightly to rouse her limbs before they fall asleep.

“Too busy curlin’ up on me like a kitten, huh?”

Her grin is toothy, and Kiyoomi feels a balloon expand in her ribcage. Atsumu’s lips look soft, subtly red even in the low light, and there’s an urge in Kiyoomi’s mind she’s afraid to recognise.

“No,” Kiyoomi says, pouting.

“Liar,” Atsumu laughs, pulling Kiyoomi impossibly closer. Like this, she can see her eyelashes, thick and wispy with mascara, and the small flecks of amber in her dark eyes. “You say that while attached to me like an octopus,” she says, gently brushing Kiyoomi’s hair away from her face, careful to avoid touching her skin.

The gesture makes a blush rise to her cheeks, and her heart feels weak at how considerate Atsumu is and has always been.

“I resent that,” she says, but she makes no move to leave, and Atsumu glows.

“But you didn’t answer my question,” Atsumu says.

Kiyoomi blinks. “About the Paradise Falls thing?”

“Yes, Omi, the Paradise Falls thing. So, would you?”

It doesn’t take long for her to answer. “If you really wanted me to… then I would.”

“Of course in this hypothetical I would really want you to! It was like, the character’s dying wish, Omi-Omi,” she says.

“Oh,” Kiyoomi says. “Well in that case, yes.”

“Could you say it any more unenthusiastically?” Atsumu whines, but there’s a tilt to her lips. Her lips that Kiyoomi can’t keep her eyes away from, that she feels like she wants to—

“I could try more monotone,” she says, pushing away her thoughts. Sitting up, she clears her throat and flattens her tone even more. “Yes, Atsumu, I would go to the ends of the world for you.”

Atsumu giggles, eyes gleaming and jubilant. “I always knew you liked me.”

She’s joking, but something about the low hum of the movie in the background, the silent darkness outside confining them to this space where they’re the only ones to exist, the subdued vulnerable edge to Atsumu’s voice—it feels right.

“Would be weird if I didn’t like my girlfriend,” she says quietly. They’re close enough that she can see the way Atsumu’s breath catches and how her tongue darts out to wet her lips. The feeling comes at Kiyoomi with such force that it scares her, and she swallows tightly. She’s glad Atsumu doesn’t seem to notice.

“Wait,” Atsumu says, “you—girlfr—you’re—”

Warmth seeps into her face but Kiyoomi waits for Atsumu to gather herself.

“You’re okay with… calling me your girlfriend?”

And sure, maybe Kiyoomi was the one to say it first, but Atsumu has always had a weight to her words, a sincerity borne from the honesty she carries into everything, and when she says it like that—

“Yeah,” she mumbles, forcing herself to look Atsumu in the eye despite how interesting the floor suddenly becomes.

“Omi,” Atsumu whispers, and it seizes Kiyoomi’s heart. It wraps around her like a blanket, closing her in and welcoming her home, and the words tumble out of her mouth before she even knows she’s saying them.

“Atsumu, I—can we kiss?”

Time seems to pause for a moment, and Kiyoomi doesn’t think she breathes for any of it.

Atsumu fumbles, spluttering, and the red on her cheeks is obvious even in the dark. “Hold on a second, Kiyoomi,” she says, “give me a minute to keep up, please.”

Kiyoomi nods and sits back a little, fiddling with the fabric of her sweatshirt where it rests on her thighs.

She hears Atsumu inhale softly, and then there’s a hand hovering near hers. She looks up, and the smile on Atsumu’s face is so gentle and sweet that it makes Kiyoomi’s stomach tie itself in knots. Hesitantly, she lets go of the hem and puts her hand in Atsumu’s.

“I’m really happy to be your girlfriend,” Atsumu says and there’s a giddiness to her that makes her look so beautiful, Kiyoomi thinks. “I’d love to kiss you too, if you want to.”

Hearing it out loud, it makes Kiyoomi shiver, and she squeezes Atsumu’s hand lightly.

“I…” she pauses and takes a deep breath. Her heart is thumping and when she looks at her fingers twisted in her sweater, maybe she’s shaking a little, but it’s hard to deny that she wants this—wants to try, at least. 

Glancing at the television, the movie has rolled onto the credits, and she catches a glimpse of the moon in the window. The air in the room is cool against her skin, and when she looks at Atsumu, at the subtle freckles on her nose, at the depth of her open brown eyes, at the way she sits, patient and kind and like she wouldn’t mind waiting forever, Kiyoomi knows there isn’t anyone else in the world she would trust with this.

“I want to,” she says.

And how could she not, when Atsumu radiates love like the sun radiates warmth?

“Can I touch your face?” Atsumu asks, but she doesn’t move, her gaze focused on Kiyoomi’s, waiting for her answer. Waiting for her, and wanting her to be as comfortable as she could be. Kiyoomi doesn’t know how she ever got so lucky.

Letting go of a stilted exhale, she reminds herself her ribs have the ability to expand, and breathing is a skill she’s had years to perfect. She shakes her head and flexes her fingers where they’re holding hands. “If… that’s okay,” she says, and she doesn’t like the way her voice has quietened of its own accord, but her voice feels trapped in her throat.

Atsumu is rubbing soothing circles on the back of her hand, and the sensation is enough to lift Kiyoomi from her thoughts. “Of course,” Atsumu says, her voice just as quiet as Kiyoomi’s. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.”

It’s a simple statement, one that seems like it would go so easily without saying, but to Kiyoomi, it eases the weight on her chest, just to hear it said. Atsumu understands, and Kiyoomi truly would traverse the world and back for her if that’s what she wanted.

She tightens her grip on Atsumu’s hand for a moment. It feels weird to ask, but Kiyoomi can’t help it. “Are you ready?”

“I’m all yours, Omi-Omi,” Atsumu says, lips curling up at the edges.

Despite the nerves under her skin, Kiyoomi feels a smile bloom too, and she’s rewarded with Atsumu’s squishy cheeks making an appearance, rosy with affection. It gives her enough confidence to lean in and watch as Atsumu’s lids flutter shut, eyelashes fanning out, a barely there hint of eyeshadow becoming visible up close. Her own eyes close as she nears, and when full darkness envelops her, her pulse jumps into her throat. This close, she can smell the faintest scent of something citrusy, and it makes the thoughts scatter in her mind.

When she’s close enough that she can feel the gentle puffs of Atsumu’s breaths, her lips are tingling and there’s a low buzzing in her ears. Her heart has leapt into her mouth, and she knows she’s probably holding Atsumu’s hand too tight. Before their lips can meet, Kiyoomi jerks back and lets go of Atsumu’s hand to press her palms firmly against her own thighs.

“I’m—sorry,” she falters. She stares at her knuckles, tense where her fingers dig into her legs. Her hair curtains her face, black curls hiding her from having to see Atsumu’s hurt, the disappointment that would inevitably be there.

“Kiyoomi? You okay?” Atsumu’s voice is careful, but there's nothing in her tone to make her sound disgruntled or agitated.

Kiyoomi looks up, and Atsumu’s expression is anything but annoyed. Concern pours from her features, and Kiyoomi feels a tightness in the back of her throat. She reminds herself to relax and with some well timed breaths, coaxes her lungs to open up again.

“I’m sorry,” she says. She still can’t look Atsumu in the eye, but at least she doesn’t feel like a coiled up spring anymore.

“It’s okay,” Atsumu says, easy and light, and nothing at all like what Kiyoomi expected. “Do you want me to give you some space?”

Kiyoomi’s not sure what she wants anymore, not after she thought she wanted… well, that, and that didn’t seem to go so well. But when Atsumu starts shifting, as though preparing to let Kiyoomi slide off her lap, her mouth starts to work again and she blurts out, “No, it’s—I’m okay. I promise. I just—need a second.”

Atsumu sinks back into the corner of the couch. “Take as long as you need, Omi,” she says, patient, always so patient.

Pushing her hair out of her eyes, Kiyoomi tries to collect herself. It’s just a kiss, she thinks. Nothing more than a kiss, and yet for a moment, the walls had felt too close, her body too apparent, and everything had been too much.

She inhales slowly. “You’re not going to take advantage of me,” she says, more for her own benefit. Rationally, of course she knows Atsumu won’t do anything. She would never even think of it. But Kiyoomi knows herself, and fears are hardly ever rational.

“I’m not,” Atsumu confirms, and the seriousness in her gaze makes Kiyoomi’s heart swell. She isn’t offended, even though Kiyoomi knows it would be insulting to anyone else, but Atsumu knows. She understands that Kiyoomi has never meant it personally, that Kiyoomi has things to work through and maybe it doesn’t make sense, but it’s there and Atsumu doesn’t hold it against her.

Kiyoomi couldn’t be more grateful.

“Kiyoomi,” Atsumu says softly, “don’t force yourself. We don’t have to do anything. If we never kiss or do anything more than cuddle, that’s okay. I’m more than okay with that. I just want you to be happy.”

“Atsumu…” There isn’t anything in existence Kiyoomi could give to deserve her girlfriend. She would willingly take down every star in the sky, but even that wouldn’t be enough. “I—I still want to try. I want to give you that.”

“You super duper mega ultra sure, Omi? I’m being honest when I say it’s absolutely okay if not.”

“Yes, I am that sure,” she says, a small smile on her face. The grin Atsumu gives in return is blinding. “If I can do it, I want to. For you and for me. So… I—can I try, um, putting my hands on your shoulders this time?”

If Atsumu is surprised by the request, she doesn’t show it. She nods and Kiyoomi tentatively finds her grip.

“You can put your hands on my waist,” Kiyoomi adds. “If you want.” Having Atsumu keep her hands solely at her sides feels like a bit too much; just because Kiyoomi’s nervous doesn’t mean she wants Atsumu to turn herself into a statue.

Through her sweatshirt, Atsumu’s hands are warm and their weight is grounding. Sighing and leaning into the touch, she exhales and prepares herself mentally. When she starts to get too into her head, Atsumu breaks her train of thought.

“Hey,” she says, massaging Kiyoomi’s sides a little. She makes sure Kiyoomi is looking at her before she continues. “It’s okay, you’re safe. It’s just you and me.”

The words wash over Kiyoomi and she repeats them in her mind. She’s safe. It’s just Atsumu. They’re at her house, sitting on her couch and her watermelon pillow is on the floor. It’s nothing out of the ordinary and Kiyoomi is safe.

“Yeah,” she exhales. “Okay.”

Atsumu smiles and closes her eyes in a silent invitation. 

Kiyoomi takes it.

She leans in, nearing Atsumu’s face, and her heart is quieter this time. Her pulse is still quick, ears filled with less static, but she thinks of Atsumu’s soft reassurances. When their lips finally meet, she doesn’t flinch or pull away. Her hands scrunch in the fabric of Atsumu’s hoodie, but Atsumu’s lips aren’t dry and Kiyoomi thinks maybe this isn’t so bad.

When she sits back, her cheeks feel warm and Atsumu’s face is bright enough to light up the room. Their kiss was chaste, but it’s more than Kiyoomi has ever done.

“I didn’t mind that,” Kiyoomi finds herself saying. “I think—I could get used to it.”

“Yeah?” Atsumu asks, dopey smile still on her face.

“Yeah,” she says. “But maybe not so soon.”

“That’s fine, that’s good. We can stick to hugs for now,” Atsumu says. Then, her expression gentle and overflowing with something Kiyoomi can’t put a name to, she says, “I’m proud of you.”

Kiyoomi ducks her head down and buries her face in Atsumu’s shoulder. “Sap,” she mumbles, but she can’t help her own lips curving up.

“The sappiest,” Atsumu agrees, squeezing her waist. Kiyoomi softens at the tangible fondness in her voice.

Relaxing in her hold, Kiyoomi couldn’t be happier to have Atsumu as her girlfriend.

**Author's Note:**

> this wasn’t oddly personal to write At All idk what u mean Haha Yeah anyway gonna go back to Thinking About Things


End file.
